


Real Thieves and Metaphorical Vandals

by acanoftrash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Broken Bones, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't Examine This Too Closely, F/F, First Kiss, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Michael!Dean, Multi, POV Alternating, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Supernatural Convention, Why Did I Write This?, i'm bitter, i'm having Feelings about charlie, severed nerves, this is a weird one lads, why did they kill charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acanoftrash/pseuds/acanoftrash
Summary: To kill Michael, TFW 2.0, along with Gabriel and Rowena, have to lock Dean in a universe created from his thoughts and memories.A universe where Dean, Sam, and Cas play hunters Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, with the angel Misha Collins popping in to save their asses periodically.Or: My self-indulgent-ass reverse fic.(this idea was poorly executed but WHATEVERalso there was much less of reverse!verse SPN than i thought there would be so rip)





	1. Some Things You Can't Fake

“God, I wish we had Gabriel to help with this,” Sam groans, poring over the instructions that Rowena’s written down. “It’d be nice to have some extra firepower.”

“What do you mean?” Rowena asks in her Scottish brogue, grinding up some seeds. They contribute to the already noxious stench in the bunker, courtesy of the dead body slumped at the foot of the stairs. “You have his number, don’t you?”

Castiel frowns as Jack says, “Gabriel’s dead.” It pains him to remember. Another one of his brothers lost because of a mess he made.

“He hasn’t told you?” Rowena asks.

“Told us- he’s  _ alive _ ?” Sam asks. He leans forwards over the table.

“Well, cat’s out of the bag now,” Rowena sighs. “He’s alive. At least as of two days ago.”

“How do you know?” Castiel queries.

“You saw him?” Sam tacks on.

Rowena smirks. “Definitely. There’s no faking that-”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam says with a wince. “Jack’s here, remember?”

Jack frowns and tilts his head. “What does that have to do with anything?”

_ Gabriel is  _ alive _ , _ Cas thinks, feeling his spirits lift. “So we have a shot at  _ killing _ Michael. Not just banishing him back to his world.” Castiel looks back down at the spell to extract Michael from Dean.  _ It’s still not going to be easy. _

“I’ll ring him up,” Rowena says. “Every time you boys call him he ends up having to fake his own death. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t answer.”

Sam scowls, even though they all know it’s true. “So will I still have to make Dean a little universe?” Jack asks.

The concept is genius, Castiel has to admit. Rowena truly is a brilliant witch. Forcibly transfer Michael into a random dead body and trap Dean in a miniature dimension, all in his head, to spare him from the pain of Michael leaving and prevent Michael from taking Dean with him on the way out. 

Unbidden, the memories of Dean saying yes spring into his mind.  _ “I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean said. He took a step towards Castiel, looking unsure. _

_ “Tick tock, Dean,” Michael drawled. Dean stepped back. _

_ “Yes.” _

_ White light flowed from Michael’s vessel to Dean, bright enough to blind a human. Castiel felt tears spring to his eyes- whether from the light or from sorrow, he couldn’t tell. The light faded and Michael’s vessel fell to the ground. “Dean?” Cas asked hesitantly. The man in front of him still  _ looked _ like his Dean, but Michael was a skilled manipulator when Castiel knew him. _

_ Dean opened his eyes. “Hey, Cas. It’s still- still me, I promise.” _

_ It  _ sounded _ like his Dean, too. “You’ll come back?” Cas blurted. _

_ “Yeah. Swear to God.” Dean took a step towards him again. They were so close that Cas could lean forwards and be kissing him. _

_ The moment went on too long. Dean took a step back and disappeared. _

“Gabriel can do that, child,” Rowena says, pulling Castiel out of his memories. “You can just help me with extracting Michael.”

Jack nods. He looks too serious. “I’ll try my best.”

Rowena smiles and pats Jack’s cheek. “I know you will, dearie. Now, let me call up Gabriel.”

…

“You want me to  _ what? _ ” Gabriel asks.

“You heard me,” Rowena replies.

“For the damned  _ Winchesters? _ You know, I’ve had to fake my death-”

“Yes, yes, I know. This is also about Michael, you know,” Rowena says.

Gabriel gets out of his chair and paces around his hotel suite. This Michael isn’t his brother, but it might as well be. “I know.”

“So you’ll help?”

Gabriel sighs.  _ God, sometimes I hate being the one archangel without a plan for world domination. _ “Fine. Fine. I’ll come over there and kill my brother. Can you even summon him?”

Suddenly, Gabriel hears a  _ boom _ on the other end.

“Rowena?” he asks. “Hello?”

“Now!” Rowena says. Then the line cuts out.

“Motherfucker,” Gabriel groans.

…

Castiel stands, his chair scraping as it gets pushed back. He looks at the smoldering wreckage of the bunker’s door and then back up at De- Michael. The archangel carries himself differently than Dean does- his shoulders are farther back, his chin is tilted up, and his eyes are hard as steel, as if anything that anyone does is too uninteresting for him to care about. “Michael,” Castiel growls, doing his best to ignore the ache in his chest.

“Castiel,” Michael drawls. Cas recoils- his name sounds so  _ wrong _ coming out of Dean’s mouth like that. It sounds like Naomi. “Hiding with  _ humans _ now, are we?”

“Go to hell,” Sam says. Castiel shifts closer to Jack and draws his angel blade. Not that it’ll do much good.

Rowena throws something into the bowl on the table, and an enormous purple flame appears for a split second. Michael turns his attention to her. “Witch,” he snarls. Suddenly, purple tendrils of magic wrap around Michael, pulling him down to the war room and binding him to a chair. “What is this?” he spits. “Release me!”

Rowena is getting paler by the minute, even as Jack sends whatever grace he can through her. He hasn’t regenerated his grace fully, and even though he’s powerful, they won’t last for long. “Where the hell is Gabriel?” Castiel mutters to Sam.

“Right here, baby bro!” Gabriel crows, appearing behind Castiel with his arms outstretched. “Time to get the party started!” He walks up to Michael and puts a hand on the other archangel’s head.

“Get your filthy hands off of me!” Michael snarls.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “That’s not very polite.” He turns back to Rowena. “All right, I hope you know what you’re doing.”


	2. Reverse Verse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First chapter from Dean's POV!

“Okay, okay. So Cas over here-” Dean doubles over in laughter as he catches sight of Cas glaring at him from across the stage.

“Is this-” Cas starts.

“Yes, it is necessary. So Cas, he comes onto set the first day, and I’m like, who the hell is this guy, you know? Like, his hair is fucked to hell, and he’s dressed like a fucking  _ tax accountant _ . And the thing is, I only caught sight of him for like, a second, because there was a malfunction with the lights, right, and they all blew the second that he stepped onto the set. So I’m going, like, okay, what the  _ fuck _ is going on? Are there really angels?” Dean pauses for breath, and the crowd sitting in the audience roars.

“He jumped, like, a foot,” Sam adds on, annoying little brother that he is.

“Shut up, Sammy. So it takes a while to get everything set back up, and then this dude who looks like he was born with a silver rod up his ass fucking  _ morphs, right in front of my fucking eyes, _ and pulls off the Misha performance perfectly! Like- you all know that they were going to kill Misha-” he has to pause for a second here as the crowd boos- “after a few episodes, right? Well, anyway, all I could think was,  _ how are they gonna kill this guy? _ And you know what? I’m glad that Cas is such a good actor. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without him.” Dean feels a familiar flutter in his stomach as he looks at his co-star, who’s wearing one of his rare gummy smiles.  _ Definitely wouldn’t be the person I am today without him. _ “I’d probably still be an alcoholic, for one.” The SPNDC crowd sobers up a little at that-  _ heh, irony _ \- at Dean’s mention of his addiction. “The dude really pulled me out of hell, not just on Supernatural.” And just like that, the jovial mood is restored.

Dean isn’t as big of a fan of this year’s SPNDC con- partly because of his proximity to President Doucheface- but he can’t really put his finger on why. Something just feels  _ off _ . Like when he nearly slipped and almost ordered a whiskey at the bar. Or when he saw Cas wearing a leather jacket and thought it was weird, despite the fact that Cas’s trenchcoat only makes an appearance in the winter now, and it’s only fall. Or when he saw Sam with Sarah and wondered where Eileen- one of their guest stars who had departed the show a year ago- was. He had to  _ remind _ himself that Sam and Sarah were married. He had been best man at his brother’s wedding. How could he forget that?

“I like it!” Sam’s voice cuts through his reverie. “You know what? I really like it. Dean? Cas? Thoughts?”

“What?” Dean asks. He turns to the blushing fan standing at the mic. “Sorry, got wrapped up in my thoughts for a sec there. Could you repeat the question?”

“What do you think of Cockles?” the fan asks. Her voice is impressively strong for a girl who looks like a tomato.

“Cock- _ what _ ?” Dean asks.

“It’s a portmanteau,” Cas says. “It refers to the pairing of Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins.”

“Thanks,  _ Urban Dictionary _ ,” Dean snarks.

“At least I know how to use a site like that, instead of asking  _ my _ brother to do it for me,” Cas snipes back.

“Ooooh,” rises from the crowd. 

“You know what?” Dean asks, trying to contain his laughter. “Fuck you, man.”

“Amazing retort.”

“What _ ever _ . So back to the question. Uh, I don’t really have an opinion on it. Cas?”

“I think it’s sweet,” Sam interjects.

“Yeah, but I didn’t  _ ask _ you, Mr. I Force My Wife To Watch Rom-Coms.”

“You know what? I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity to do that. Maybe it’s due to the fact that- oh- wait-  _ I _ have a  _ smoking hot, brilliant wife _ and you don’t! Ha!”

“ _ Cas? _ ” Dean says pointedly, turning his head from his brother. “Opinions?”

“I agree with Sam,” Cas says. “It is rather sweet.” His blue eyes flick to the floor.

“What about J2?” someone in the back yells.

Immediately, Sam and Cas’s noses wrinkle. “No offense, but  _ blegh, _ ” Sam says.

“Yes, that’s… rather disturbing to think about,” Cas adds. “The actors playing them are…”

“Okay, what the hell is  _ J2 _ ?” Dean asks. “And  _ don’t _ do the fucking Urban Dictionary shit, Cas.”

“It’s referring to the pairing of Jensen and Jared,” Cas sums up.

Dean pictures it and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “That’s… yeah, I agree with my  _ brother _ here. I definitely think that Jensen is putting on a sort of facade… but not  _ that _ much.”

…

The panel ends and Dean slips into the comfort of his anonymous hotel room. It’s not that great, but for some reason he feels ecstatic once he sees the clean, fluffy bed. “Ooh. Wonder if they have Casa Erotica,” he mutters to himself. But first he wants a shower.

He strips quick and jumps under the pounding water. It’s almost as good as the pressure at home, in the bunk- in his apartment.  _ Where the fuck did  _ bunker _ come from? I’ve been playing Jensen too long. _

He starts to soap up and thinks back on those weird questions. Has he been asked anything like that before? No, right?  _ Why can’t I remember this? I think I’d remember a fan asking about my character and Cas’s character… you know. _

Unbidden, the thought of Cas’s hands on him flashes to the forefront of his mind. Then it’s their lips pressing together. Then it’s their chests sliding together-

_ No way. You can’t jerk off to Cas- you’re straight! _

Dean stopped clinging to that argument years ago. But the bathroom light is harsh and bright and unyielding, and Dean feels like it’s a spotlight and if he jerks off to the thought of his best friend right now, somehow everyone will know what a fucking douchenozzle he is.

But his dick is at half-mast. He glares down at it.  _ Go away! _ he wants to yell. But yelling at his own dick is a whole new level of crazy, so he relents.

It’s almost involuntary. His hand drifts down, and then suddenly he’s thinking of Cas’s mouth hot on his, Cas’s dick rubbing against his, his mouth closing on Cas’s tip, Cas sliding into him, Cas pinning him in place and fucking him into the mattress-

“Cas!” he moans as he unloads onto the shower wall.

Once he comes to his senses, he wonders if he’s somehow become a teenager again, like in that season 9 episode where Jensen gets cursed. One, he just jerked off to the thought of his best friend, and two, he only lasted, like, two minutes doing it. “Fucking hell.”


	3. The Title Of Amy's Sex Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is a B99 reference and everyone should go watch it immediately  
> also! we're gonna do this jumping back and forth shit the whole time! who's pumped? i am!

“Gabriel. You don’t want to do this,” Michael warns. “I will tear the flesh from your bones, bit by bit.”

“Gabriel,  _ now _ !” Rowena exclaims. Sweat is beading at her forehead, Jack is getting paler and paler, and Castiel is starting to get worried.  _ Rowena said not to interfere. If she really needed help, she’d say something, _ he reasons with himself.

“Just hold on, I’m trying!” Gabriel snaps. “It’s kind of hard to put this guy to sleep  _ plus _ pull together a mini-universe, even if I  _ am _ just plucking random memories of Dean’s to make it!”

Fear is starting to sink its tendrils into Cas’s gut. He exchanges a look with Sam, who appears to be just as worried. “I always knew you were a traitor, Gabriel,” Michael hisses. Gabriel blanches at that, but Castiel can feel in the ebb and flow of energy in the room that he hasn’t faltered. “Let me…”

Michael appears to lose consciousness, as Dean’s head tilts forwards onto his chest. Cas inhales sharply at the speed at which Dean’s head dropped. Rowena lowers her hand and she and Jack let out twin sighs. “How long does this buy us?” Sam asks.

“We’ve got three hours,” Gabriel says, panting slightly. “Hey, don’t look so disappointed! That was a stretch, even for me. After that I can try to put them both back to sleep, but Michael will anticipate it. The only reason it worked this time is because I had the element of surprise. And there’s no telling what he’ll do to Dean because of this, so chop chop.”

Rowena glares at him.

…

After Sam’s third inquiry about what he or Cas could do, the two of them are kicked out of the room. Cas retreats to the hallway, and to his surprise, Sam follows him. Cas was intending to head back to his own room, but that doesn’t have enough seating for the two of them.

The kitchen or the Dean Cave would be the logical place to conduct this rendezvous, but Cas and Sam don’t go inside either of those places.

When did Castiel become so  _ human? _ He never used to have such sentiment attached to such simple things as  _ locations _ . And now the mere thought of entering Dean’s room, or the kitchen, or the Dean Cave- anywhere where he can still feel the residue of Dean’s soul- makes him want to vomit.

Sam stops walking, so Castiel follows suit. “Do you think it’ll work?” Sam asks, in a voice so vulnerable it pains Castiel.  _ Why are you asking me? _ he wants to scream.  _ I’m not any better off than you. _

But Dean has ranked Sam first priority, with Castiel coming in a distant fifth, most likely, so he pushes down any wayward thoughts and dedicates himself to comforting Sam. “Rowena is a gifted witch, and with her powers combined with Gabriel’s and Jack’s, I’m sure they can pull it off.” Castiel imbues the words with a false positivity, trying to keep them from sounding as wooden as he feels.

Sam huffs, his mouth turning up with no real humor in his eyes, all vulnerability gone. Cas feels, strangely, that he’s the one being comforted now, despite the fact that he’s a celestial being. “Thanks, Cas.” Sam claps him on the shoulder, turning to head down the hall. “You should try to believe it too.”

“I need him to come back,” Cas admits, the words pouring out of his mouth.

Sam turns back to him and does his peculiar huff-laugh again. “This is an improvement from last year.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel asks.

“At least you’re actually willing to talk about your feelings. Last year when you were dead, Dean just punched things.”

Cas feels like his worldview has just shifted a few inches. “Why?” he asks.

Sam tilts his head a little. “Because… you died?”

Castiel furrows his brow. “And?”

Sam huffs once more. “You know, you’re just as important to him as Jack and I are.”

“Oh.” Castiel ponders it for a few seconds. The words were delivered so casually for something so earth-moving. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam furrows his brow and smiles a little. “No problem?”

Castiel pauses, and just before it gets awkward, he says, “He’ll be fine.” And this time, he believes it a little more.

Sam seems to have a little more faith too. “He’ll be fine.” And then he walks away.

Cas feels his spirits lift marginally.  _ Awkward, but good _ , he thinks.  _That's the best way to describe that conversation_.


	4. Meta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> j e s u s c h r i s t  
> i miss charlie sm  
> also i wrote a really good paragraph for this chapter but it didn't work and i had to cut it out rip

They do the con circuit. Dean regales the fans with tales of filming Jared, Jensen, and Misha’s exploits. He signs autographs. He takes pictures. He does everything a B-list celebrity is expected to do.

And then he goes to his hotel room or his apartment or wherever, and he gets into the shower and jacks off to the thought of Cas doing filthy, filthy things to him.

He feels like a terrible person. He really does. But he finally realizes just how  _ far off the fucking map _ he’s gone when he’s on the stage at SPNhon with Cas and he starts fantasizing. Right there. In front of  _ hundreds of people _ .

And then Cas decides to ask  _ him _ a question. “Dean, are you all right?”

“What? Oh, yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asks, rubbing at his neck and trying to think of anything  _ but _ Cas’s rough-as-sin voice, anything  _ but _ that voice moaning, commanding him, grunting out his name as they-

And now he’s got a fucking  _ boner _ , of all things. He shuffles around in his chair, which garners Sam’s attention. “Well, you  _ were _ just staring into space for the past five minutes,” Sam says in a voice so smug that Dean can  _ tell _ that his brother knows about his…  _ predicament _ .

“Just… just thinkin’,” Dean says.

“Have you formulated a response to the question, then?” Cas asks, and Dean wants to drop into a bottomless pit right about now. Not only does he have no clue what the fan’s question was, unless he’s suddenly lost all ability to read Cas, then the other man has an inkling about what’s happening in Dean’s nether regions.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” he asks the fan.

“Uh, I asked, uh, if you had to make out with anyone on set, who would it be?” the short blonde girl asks.

“Cas…sie,”  _ Are you fucking  _ kidding _ me right now, _ Dean thinks. He can  _ feel _ his soul leaving his body. “Cassie Robinson- uh, she played Megalyn Echikunwoke in Route 666. She was Jensen’s love interest, for, like, a hot second, so it’s nothing that hasn’t been done before.” He accompanies his weird, rambling near-slipup with a just as weird laugh and decides that he is officially done with the day.

…

Dean likes to come watch Cas’s solo panels, and it’ll look weirder if he doesn’t go than if he does. Just because he got a sort-of boner on stage doesn’t mean Cas knows it was for him. He can go watch Cas, it’ll be  _ fine _ .

Dean sits in the wings, hidden from view, as Cas interacts with fans. They all love him, and it’s hard not to see why. Cas is sweet to all the fans, and he cares, and it doesn’t help that his eyes are bluer than fucking… sapphire or some shit-

_ No! Bad Dean! No getting horny for Cas in public! _

_ But he’s such a good person! _

_ NO! _

_ But- _

At this point, he should just buy a spray bottle.  _ Watch the guy’s fucking panel without being a horny little bitch. _

He listens to the next fan’s question. “What was your favorite memory from shooting season 13?” he asks.

“That is an interesting question, thank you,” Cas says.  _ (SEE LOOK HOW CARING HE IS _ , Dean thinks, almost immediately followed up by,  _ Being mushy is worse than being horny! Shut up and watch, brain! _ ) “Well, we often ate pizza on Fridays at the bunker’s table, and it was quite nice. Like Thanksgiving every Friday. That’s how they got the idea to add the scene with Jensen, Jared, Misha, Sam, and Alex around the bunker table, actually.”

“Thank you,” the boy says, blushing furiously.

Dean genuinely loves watching Cas interact with fans. It sends warmth radiating through his body to see someone with that shitty of a childhood turn out to be such a  _ good _ person.  _ I mean, being an emotionless warrior _ -

Jesus Christ, he really  _ has _ been playing Jensen too long. Cas isn’t a rebellious angel, he’s a human. H-U-M-A-N.  _ Just watch the panel _ .

“Why do you think that they’ve kept Misha around for so long?” the next person in line asks. There’s something nasty in her voice that Dean doesn’t like, and it puts him on edge immediately. “He’s a useless character, and the show was better without him. I think the show should only be about Jensen and Jared, not you.”

Dean  _ knows _ that Cas can handle himself. He tries to keep himself in his chair as the crowd boos the fan, but his blood is boiling and he can see Cas’s angry, hurt expression, and he can see that Cas is trying to keep himself in check, and he  _ hates _ it.

He strides onto the stage, and the crowd goes silent. “That’s fucking bullshit. Misha-”

“Dean,” Cas says.

“Misha is a fantastic character, and he’s what kept the show alive. We were  _ dead meat _ -”

“Dean.”

“-And if you’re trying to imply that Cas should be fired from the show, that’s  _ also _ a load of horseshit, because he’s one of the most talented actors I’ve had the pleasure of working with. He’s also my  _ best fucking friend _ , and he pulled me out of my addiction, so I’m  _ over the fucking moon _ that he works on the show. These cons are a place to spread love, not be nasty. Keep that on fucking Reddit or whatever.”

A security guard appears and escorts the woman out, and the audience bursts into thunderous applause. Dean turns back to look at Cas, who’s wearing an inscrutable expression. His blue eyes bore into Dean’s, but for the first time in a long time, he can’t tell if Cas is mad.

“I suppose that was perfect timing, because our time is up,” Cas says. “It was lovely to see so many fans of the show.”

Somebody shouts out, “ALL aspects of the show!” and the crowd bursts into applause once more.

Cas smiles, but Dean sees the hurt in the tiny lines in his forehead, in the redness of his nose and ears, in the tightness of his lips. “Thank you all. It means a lot to me. And it means a lot that you are all here today. Thank you. Really.”

Cas stands up and gives an awkward wave before he and Dean walk off the stage to the sound of applause.

…

“Are you okay?” Dean asks as soon as they’re in the elevator. Thankfully, Cas’s panel was the last of the day.

“I will be.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Cas sighs. “No, just… you didn’t have to do that. You could potentially get in trouble.”

Dean gapes at Cas and wonders why he’s in- why he has feelings for this self-sacrificing idiot. “I’d rather get in trouble than have people think I don’t have your back. ‘Cause I do.”

The elevator dings and they step out onto their floor. “How did they even allow that question?” Cas asks.

“Must’ve slipped through. I’m glad she’s gone. You won’t have to worry about her.”

Cas tilts his head and stares at Dean, and for a second there, Dean thinks that Cas has found out about his fantasies, and  _ holy fucking shit the dude’s never gonna talk to you again and you deserve- _ “Do you want to watch bad television with me?” Cas asks.

Dean can  _ hear _ the record scratch. “What?”

“Do you want to watch bad television together?”

It’s not lost on Dean that Cas switches the “with me” to “together,” just because he’s so fucking starved for any little morsel that proves that Cas could- that he-

“Sure,” Dean says.

…

Dean comes out of Cas’s kitchenette with two coffees (“How the hell do you think you’re gonna stay awake through  _ nine  _ Star Wars _ movies _ without coffee, Cas? Like, I know you’ve got that freaky ‘I barely sleep’ thing going on, but  _ still _ ”) and puts them on the bedside table closest to Cas. The opening sequence of A New Hope is playing out on the hotel TV, and Dean jumps onto the bed.

It’s only after he gets comfortable under the covers that he realizes that he’s practically  _ snuggled _ up to Cas. The other man is a warm, solid line against his arm and his thigh, and Dean can’t see a way to explain this.

For the first time in his life, Dean wishes he was in any bed size  _ but _ a king. At least that would give him an excuse for being so damn  _ close _ to Cas, to his best friend, to his-

Fucking Christ, it’s gonna be a long night.

…

At the end of Episode III, Dean has ingested six cups of coffee and Cas has forbidden him from drinking any more. “But we  _ have _ to finish the series, Cas!” he slurs.

“No… more coffee,” Cas says, startling fully awake halfway through his sentence. “Sleep now.”

“But-”

“I care about you and your health, Dean, and any more coffee is- it’s, uh…” Cas pauses for a second, his eyelids drifting closed. “Unhealthy!” His eyes fly open.

“Aw, you care about me!” Dean drawls.

Cas turns to stare at him, blue eyes hazy with exhaustion but still sincere. “Of course, Dean.”

Their noses are only an inch or two apart, and suddenly Dean’s wide awake, too awake for this and yet not awake enough, and he’s itching for a drink, and-  _ Fuck it _ .

Obviously, he’s still exhausted, because  _ he _ just initiated the kiss that’s happening, and-  _ God, _ so that’s what Cas’s lips taste like, honey, and something that tastes vaguely like burning, and they’re plush and chapped, and-

Fuck.

Dean pulls back. Cas’s mouth is hanging slightly open, and his eyebrows are raised. “Fuck,” he says. He feels weirdly tearful. “Cas, I’m so-”

“Dean, hold on,” Cas starts.

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean says. “I know- I’m sorry, I’m just gonna-” He swipes his key card off the counter.

“Dean! Just hold on! I didn’t-”

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean parrots. Cas starts working to free himself from the blanket nest he’s entangled himself in, and Dean takes the opportunity to slip his shoes on and stumble out. “I’m really- that-”

“Dean!”

Dean shuts the door and sprints to the stairwell. There’s nobody out at this hour, thank God. He pulls out his phone, already descending the stairs. “Charlie?” he asks.

“Dean? What the hell? It’s five in the morning,” Charlie says in a scratchy voice.

“Can I bunk with you tonight?” Dean asks, exiting the stairwell.

Thank God for Charlie. She seems to recognize the tone in his voice and she doesn’t ask any questions. “Sure.”

Dean knocks on her door. “Thank you,” he says as Charlie opens the door.

Charlie takes a long look at him. “What did you do?” she asks.

“I screwed things up with Cas,” he says, barely managing to speak past the lump in his throat. It’s  _ so good _ to see Charlie, and he doesn’t know why. He’s been touring the country with her for the past few months. But something about kissing Cas has made him a fucking emotional wreck, apparently.

“It’ll be okay,” Charlie says, hugging him with amazing strength for a woman of her size. “You didn’t do anything bad enough for Cas to hate you.”

“How do you know?” Dean asks, hating how small he sounds.

Charlie releases him and looks up at him. “Because I would’ve heard any explosions. Now get in here, go to sleep, and we’ll talk more in the morning. The  _ real _ morning.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean replies. He allows himself to be hustled inside. Charlie hands him a pair of his basketball shorts. “Why do you have these?” Dean asks.

“You always leave your shit at my place, Dean. I was gonna give it to you before we left.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Dean says. He shucks his jeans and changes into the shorts, and by that time Charlie’s already in bed.

“You better not kick me,” Charlie warns.

“I do  _ not _ kick.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows, and Dean knows he’s lost the argument. He hits the light and crawls into bed, waiting for sleep to finally take him out of this nightmare.

Except that it doesn’t. He keeps replaying the kiss in his head- Cas’s lips, Cas’s taste, Cas’s look when Dean pulled away. The shock on his face. A wave of self-disgust rushes through him.  _ You’ve screwed everything up. You’re a failure. Cas would never want to be with you. _

An hour passes, and Dean grabs his phone from the pool of denim on the floor.  _ Shit _ , he thinks as he stares at the screen. It was on silent, and he missed six calls from Cas, two from Sam, and a litany of texts.

_ From: Cas _

_ 4:57 AM: Dean. _

_ 4:57 AM: Dean, we need to talk. _

_ 4:58 AM: Dean, answer the phone. _

_ 4:59 AM: Answer the goddamn phone, Winchester _

_ 5:00 AM: PICK UP! _

_ 5:02 AM: I don’t want to do this over text _

_ 5:03 AM: Dean, please _

_ 5:03 AM: I’m sorry _

_ 5:03 AM: Was it _ -

Dean stops reading. Cas always punctuates his messages. He exits out of the message thread and looks at his other unread messages.

_ From: Samsquatch _

_ 5:02 AM: Dean, what the hell did you do? _

_ 5:02 AM: Cas just called me and told me to tell you to call him. _

_ 5:02 AM: He sounded pretty pissed. _

_ 5:03 AM: Seriously, dude. _

_ 5:03 AM: CALL HIM _

Dean sighs. He needs Charlie’s input on this before anything, so he swipes out of the message thread and keeps going.

_ From: Fergie _

_ 7:02 PM: Hello, Not-Moose. _

_ 7:02 PM: Heard your response to that fan’s question about making out with people. ;) _

Dean groans inwardly. Of  _ course _ Crowley heard.

_ 7:03 PM: I found this interesting. _

Attatched is a link to fucking Tumblr. Of all places. And of course Dean clicks on it, because he’s sadistic like that.

It opens onto a tag called “destiel.”

And soon, Dean gets an idea- more than just an idea- of what the hell Destiel is. But he keeps reading, keeps looking at the photosets of him and Cas smiling together, and then he comes across a “meta.”

He reads the entire thing, which concludes with “I would be  _ very _ surprised if these two weren’t fucking.”

Fuck. What has he been  _ doing? _


	5. Into the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so short i apologize

Castiel ends up back in the war room as Rowena starts the spell to transfer Michael to the other body. There’s a roaring in his ears, and his stomach feels… twisted. The soul that used to inhabit the body hadn’t consented to be possessed, after all. There’s any number of things that could go wrong at this stage.

Rowena throws the last ingredient into the bowl, and a white flame rises from the bowl. The same white flame consumes Dean’s body from the inside out, shining through his eyes and mouth, getting so intense that his body is seemingly replaced by it. Even Castiel has to shield his eyes.

Squinting, Castiel watches as Rowena moves the light to envelop the dead body as well, her face similarly pinched. For a single heart-stopping moment, Cas thinks it isn’t going to work, and he can feel his heart break.

And then the corpse’s eyes suck up the light, and Cas is left blinking spots out of his vision. Dean is still comatose, and the corpse still looks like a corpse. But Castiel can sense that Michael’s grace has shifted.

Sam pulls the archangel blade out of his overcoat and hands it to Gabriel. Castiel’s brother looks grim, and Castiel wishes that he could spare Gabriel the burden of having to make himself the last archangel in their universe.

Gabriel strides forward and grabs Michael’s collar.

And then Michael’s eyes fly open.


	6. Graffiti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> do NOT talk to me if you think jo and charlie wouldn't be a great couple  
> but still like leave kudos and comments because im a thirsty bitch :)))  
> also  
> this is chapter 6/9  
> heh

Dean finally falls asleep at around 6:45 in the morning. He wakes up three hours later, his heart pounding and the taste of blood on his lips. Charlie’s standing over him, a concerned look on her face. “Dude, what the hell was that about? You were screaming your head off. I’m surprised nobody’s called security yet.”

Dean tries to get up, but he’s tangled in his blankets. He kicks out of them, flinching as the blankets tug against his skin. He can feel the bile rising in his throat, and he barely makes it to Charlie’s bathroom before he empties his stomach of coffee and popcorn. It stings, but the overwhelming flavor of blood is diminished somewhat. He slumps against the bowl, shivering. The cold tiles of the hotel bathroom burn into his legs. He barely feels Charlie’s hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

“Did you… did you relapse?” Charlie asks.

“No,” Dean manages to say before another wave of vomit rises. He can feel a tear slip out of his eye, and he can’t figure out why. He leans back against the hotel wall. “Bad dream.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Charlie asks.

Dean hesitates before saying, “Did you watch the season thirteen finale, when Jensen said yes to Michael?”

“Of course I did. You bitched at me about the wirework the whole time,” Charlie says with a snort.

“It was like I was living in the Supernatural universe, and I was possessed, and Michael was making me- I killed-” His sentence is punctuated with a harsh, ugly snort. “What kind of actor am I, that I can’t separate reality from fiction?”

“You know, for weeks after filming my- Felicia’s- death scene, I felt like I was the one who got murdered. I could  _ feel _ that dude tearing into my skin.” Charlie’s looking at him in that way that only Charlie can, and it makes the tremors wracking his body subside a little. He reaches up, not caring for the moment that he’s acting like a big baby, and pulls her into a hug.

“Well, you weren’t,” Dean says, feeling his heart break a little for her.

They stay there for a little, and Dean’s stomach finally stops churning.

“You smell like puke,” Charlie remarks.

Dean pulls back from the hug. “Wow, I have no idea why.”

Charlie snorts and sits down on the bathroom floor. “Now, what did you screw up with Cas?”

Well, Dean’s already up Emotional Vulnerability Creek without a paddle, so what the hell? “I kissed him.” And then Emotional Vulnerability Creek suddenly becomes a tributary of Why The Fuck Would You Do That (Actually Don’t Answer That Because You Know Why And That Is Bad) River. It’s quite a mess, and he can feel his stomach start its little whirlpool act again.

“And?” Charlie asks, grinding the spinning mess in his head to a halt.

“That’s it.”

Charlie’s eyebrows go up a millimeter. “What did he do?”

“I don’t know. I kissed him for, like, a second, and then I pulled back.”

“ _ You _ pulled back? Why? Was he a bad kisser?”

“There wasn’t even any tongue, Charles.”

“But why did you pull back?” Charlie asks again, leaning forward.

“Well, he isn’t interested in me, and that was out of line,” Dean says, feeling mildly confused.

Charlie’s eyebrows fly up so high that they’re practically in her hairline. “We  _ are _ talking about Castiel, right? Castiel, the dude who eyefucks you every chance he gets?”

“Uh, one, we don’t eyefuck, and two, if anyone was doing the eyefucking, it would be me.”  _ LIAR! _ his dozens of fantasies of Cas pounding into him scream.

“Uh, one, lie, and two, lie.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I have eyes? And you’re the neediest bottom to ever bottom.”

“Yeah, well, if you have eyes, then how come you never notice how Jo Harvelle’s been checking you out at every damn con you’re at together?” Dean asks, ignoring the “bottom” part and trying his hardest to deflect from the fact that  _ Cas might like him back _ . That would be unacceptable. Cas is too fucking good for him, and Dean’s already done the metaphorical equivalent of draw dicks on him with permanent marker; he and Cas being together would be like spray painting the biggest dick possible on him.

“Don’t make this about me!” Charlie exclaims, blushing furiously. “We’re talking about how you can’t get your head out of your ass far enough to see that Cas is in love with you.”

“Well, what happens if he’s not?” Dean asks.

“I’ll give you a thousand bucks.” Charlie sighs. “Dean, just try. You owe it to yourself to try,” she says, her voice noticeably softer.

“I don’t owe myself shit,” Dean says. “I’m an ex-alcoholic dropout who hasn’t been able to make a relationship last for more than a year.”

Charlie has a steely look in her eye, like she’s about to dominate in Mario Kart yet again. “None of that makes you unworthy of love. But if you’re gonna be stubborn about it, then you owe it to Cas.”

“You got me there,” Dean says, wagging his finger with a fake smile.

“Don’t quote that to me when we’re having a deep conversation,” Charlie says, trying to hide her grin.

“Fine. Fine, I’ll talk to him. But on one condition.”

“Fine. What?”

“Call Jo and ask her out.”

“Oh, you- that is  _ not _ fair!”


	7. The Great Race

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you'd think this is something like the iditarod  
> but no  
> it's like milliseconds  
> but whatever

Michael grins- a demented, cruel smile- and takes advantage of their shock to deliver a blow to Gabriel, who stumbles backwards. Castiel looks at Rowena and Jack out of the corner of his eye. They both look exhausted.

Michael snatches the blade from Gabriel’s loosened grip. “I told you that I will tear the flesh from your bones,” he says as he advances on Gabriel. “I intend to-”

“Hey, assbutt!” Cas yells. A wave of nostalgia runs through him as he picks up a glass bottle from the table and hurls it at Michael.

“Castiel,” Michael snarls, turning to face him. “You have been a pain to me, whether you know it or not, for far too long.” Michael extends his hand, an unseen tendril of his grace pulling Cas over the ground. Michael closes his hand around Cas’s neck and lifts Cas a foot off the ground. Cas’s borrowed heart beats quicker as he recalls the ice-cold burn of Lucifer’s blade sinking through flesh and incinerating Castiel’s grace.  _ Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t stop this _ , he thinks as he prepares for the inevitable.

Michael’s hand squeezes tighter around Castiel’s neck, burning through the grace thrumming just underneath. The bunker’s colors start to fade. “I hope you enjoy-”

Purple tendrils wrap around Michael’s neck and yank him backwards. Cas falls to the ground. He lifts a hand to his tender neck and slowly climbs to his feet, pain radiating through his body. His grace is barely pulsing through him, but he has a body, too, and that’s all he needs to wield a weapon. He looks towards Rowena and Jack, who have Michael pinned to the wall with faltering threads of purple and yellow. He casts a glance at Sam and Gabriel, who are poring over the spell book frantically. “Do something!” Rowena cries. It’s a distant sound to Castiel and it’s ringing in his ears when his gaze falls on Dean, still lying unconscious.

Dean doesn’t look like himself. He’s shrunk, and he’s wearing a tailored three-piece suit. There are dark bruises under his eyes, and the unnatural paleness of his skin makes them stand out even more.  _ Michael doesn’t need to eat. _ Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to look at Dean, especially since starving Dean was likely just a cruel act on Michael’s part.

Castiel has let Dean down too many times.  _ Not again _ . He unbuttons the jacket with still-unsteady hands.  _ I wish circumstances were different _ . He’d said that to Dean what seems like ages ago, and it still holds true.

He pats the inside pockets of the suit jacket and finally finds what he’s looking for. “Gabriel!” he calls, already throwing it. Gabriel catches it, his face drawn, just as Michael’s grace pulses through his bonds, sending a shockwave back down the magical tendrils that causes Rowena and Jack to fly backwards. Neither of them stir, and Cas has to bite his lip to keep from crying out Jack’s name.

“Oh,  _ no _ ,” Michael says through a gritted smile. He twists his hand violently as he walks forward. His grace responds, reaching out and shattering the bones in Gabriel’s arms, the bone fragments spraying out and severing the nerves. The knife clatters to the floor, and Michael grabs Gabriel’s neck and lifts him like he did to Castiel not five minutes ago. Michael throws out his free hand, sending Cas and Sam hurtling into walls. Cas tries to get up, but he can’t move. All he can do is watch as Michael puts his own archangel blade to Gabriel’s neck and smiles. “At least you’ll serve a good purpose.”

Michael makes a tiny cut across Gabriel’s neck, and the grace starts to eke out. Gabriel’s eyes go wide. “Fuck you,” he croaks. He flicks his finger towards Castiel.

Looking back, both Cas and Sam will agree that the sight of Michael in a rotting corpse’s body, pursing his lips like a furious goldfish and racing the tendrils of Gabriel’s grace as well as the archangel blade to Castiel, was actually hilarious. But in the present, all Castiel is aware of is an angry Michael, a deadly blade, and an incredibly bright, potentially lethal cloud of grace all flying at him.

The blade’s hilt finds Cas’s hand and Gabriel’s grace shoves itself down Cas’s throat a second before Michael gets to him. Cas stabs upwards blindly.

The resultant fire pouring out of Michael’s face and his wound is terrifyingly hot, and for a moment Cas thinks he isn’t going to make it.  _ That doesn’t matter. Dean is safe. They’re all safe. _

And then the fire is gone as abruptly as it came, and the corpse, now dead twice over, collapses to the ground right next to Cas, its eyes burnt out.


	8. Last Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> god. i just *clenches fist* love rowena

Dean swipes his phone open and leans against Charlie’s headboard as Charlie leaves the room ( _ “I don’t want to see a decade’s worth of sexual tension resolved in front of me; just don’t do anything on the bed, because I’m taking a nap before we fly out” _ ). He ignores all of his texts and goes straight to the phone app.

His thumb hovers over Cas’s name in his Recents tab.

_ He’s going to hate you, you know _ .

_ Well, it’s good he’s catching on. _

He taps Cas’s name and puts the phone up to his ear. Cas picks up on the second ring and doesn’t say anything; if not for the sound of his breathing, Dean would think Cas hadn’t answered. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. His voice is a little stiff, but it’s not the voice Cas uses when he’s pissed. Dean can feel some of the tension leak out of him.

“Uh, look- I’m really sorry, Cas. That-”

“Was it a mistake?” Cas asks.

“What?”

“Don’t apologize unless it was a mistake. That’s what I was trying to say yesterday. So if it was-”

“It wasn’t, Cas, Jesus. Why would you- I mean, you’re  _ you _ . Why would it be?”

“You have no idea,” Cas mutters, so softly that Dean can barely hear it.

“You’re one of the best things to ever happen to me,” Dean tells Cas. He really does mean it; he means it so much that his heart aches, sometimes.

There’s a pause on the other end. “Where are you?” Cas asks.

“Charlie’s room.”

“I’m on my way.” Cas hangs up, and Dean exhales.

It’s like the man really  _ does _ have wings. Cas knocks on the door barely a minute after the end of the call.

Dean looks down at his wrinkled shirt and feels self-conscious about seeing Cas for the first time in seven years.

It doesn’t matter, though. Cas is here. Cas likes him back, from the sound of it.  _ Go let him in _ . He walks to the door and opens it.

Cas looks as haggard as Dean does, which is a little comforting. He tilts his head, and the amount of sincerity in his eyes is too much for Dean to handle without coffee. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Cas asks. “With me?”

“Of course I’m sure, dude. Are you, though?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t want to spray paint a giant dick on you, Cas,” Dean blurts; right before the world fades away.


	9. A Couple (Of Trusting Dumbasses)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know i'm a lesbian but i think i have a problem with cas and growling "don't blaspheme" because it's been in like half my fics  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> also i probably overuse the "less dumb less ass" quote in my fics but  
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> also also i still miss charlie  
> rip  
> and the transitions in this chapter are shitty but i'm tired so pls forgive me

Dean opens his eyes, and the faces of Jack, Cas, and Sam swim into view. His mouth is as dry as a desert, and he feels painfully hungry.

“Dean?” Sam and Cas say at the same time.

Dean drifts back into unconsciousness.

…

The next time Dean wakes up, he’s in his own bed and he feels much better, though he’d still kill for a burger. Cas is sitting in the chair next to him, reading a book. Dean looks Cas over, drinking him in, burning the lines of his face, his nose, his shoulders, his eyes, into his memory. His eyes linger on Cas’s lips, the taste of honey springing to mind for some reason. “Cas?” Dean croaks, so soft it’s barely audible.

Cas’s head spins towards him with a speed that isn’t natural and sets the book on the nightstand. “Dean?” Cas says, his voice even more gravelly than usual. He looks exhausted, almost human. Dean feels a pang in his chest as he sees Cas’s neck and the burnt handprint marking it.

“What happened to your neck?” Dean asks.

Cas winces. “Michael,” he says. “The effects of him burning my grace transferred to my physical form, it seems.”

“Jesus, Cas, I’m-”

“If you say you’re sorry, I will make you eat Sam’s food for a week,” Cas threatens.  _ Fuck me, that’s really, really hot. And that’s a disturbing threat _ . “This was  _ not _ your fault.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue. Cas raises an eyebrow, and Dean decides otherwise. “So what happened?” he says instead.

“We recruited Rowena to help us expel Michael from you. We  _ were _ going to just trap him in the other dimension, but she told us Gabriel was alive-

“Gabriel’s alive?” Dean exclaims. “That sonofabitch.”

“Well, to be fair, the last few times you and Sam met him, he had to fake his death,” Cas says, the minutest of upward turns visible at the left corner of his mouth. “So we changed the plan slightly in order to kill Michael. He fortuitously chose that moment to break into the bunker, and Rowena and Jack bound him. Gabriel showed up, he put Michael to sleep, and he stuck you in your own universe, existing entirely in your head- it’s quite interesting, actually, I don’t know how exactly that works, because even Gabriel couldn’t see into it, just create it- albeit haphazardly, he couldn’t control what situation you were in, since it was based off your memories and thoughts- what did you see in there? That must’ve been-”

Dean can’t help the smile that appears on his face as Cas starts off on a Sam-worthy tangent. “I don’t remember, but… it was a happy time, I think. But what happened next? So Jack is back at full power?”

“Almost. As far as I know, he’s still recuperating, and so is Rowena. It took a lot of power to pull that off. And then when Rowena transferred Michael’s grace to the corpse-”

“There was a corpse? You  _ stole _ a corpse?”

“If it’s any consolation, he was a convicted murderer.”

Dean furrows his brow and decides not to comment. “Oh-kay.”

“Anyway, Michael woke up early. Gabriel says that in the body transfer, the sleep spell got left in your body. He almost won-” Cas rubs his neck again and winces, and Dean wishes it had been him who’d killed the bastard- “he had our archangel blade and broke free of Rowena’s and Jack’s bonds again. I tossed Gabriel the archangel blade that was in your suit jacket, but Michael broke his arm and was about to take his grace, and then Gabriel used the remainder of his grace to direct the majority of his grace and the archangel blade to me.”

“Hold up, you’re an  _ archangel? _ ” Dean asks incredulously. Cas looks no different, no more douchebaggy.

“No, I gave it back after I killed Michael.”

Dean stares at Cas for a second. “Thank you,” he says, choked up.

Cas scratches the back of his head. “Gabriel did most of the work. I just stabbed him.”

“Take the damn compliment, Cas.”

“Very well. Um, you’re welcome.”

Dean had felt sure that this wasn’t a creation of Michael’s since he woke up, but this cements it.  _ Nobody _ could replicate Cas like this. Nobody, save for Cas himself, knows Cas as well as Dean does. Dean licks his lips, and he suddenly wants nothing more to kiss Cas.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”  _ This is it this is it this is it- _

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t want to ‘spray paint a giant dick’ on me?”

Cue universal record scratch.

“What?”

“Right as you were waking up, you said you didn’t want to ‘spray paint a giant dick’ on me.’”

Dean can hear the air quotes, and it simultaneously makes him want to roll his eyes and smile at what a fucking  _ dork _ Cas is. “Uh…”

“Never mind, it might just be… ‘spillover’ from your period of unconsciousness.” Cas looks disappointed, and  _ damn _ if that hasn’t been a weak spot of Dean’s since… well, what seems like forever.

“Well, if it really  _ was _ based on my thoughts, then it would’ve been like- oh, who was that blonde chick- Hester! That’s it- anyway, like she said. I corrupted- Cas, you said it yourself. You gave  _ everything _ for me. And if we were together, that would be even- Cas, you’re an  _ angel _ . You shouldn’t be with an alcoholic dropout.”  _ HOLD THE FUCKING FUCK UP WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT YOU AND CAS ARE NEVER GOING TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP- _

“Dean, I’m a useless excuse for an angel, and you save lives for a living- if we were together, it would be  _ me _ who didn’t deserve  _ you _ .”

“Don’t even  _ start _ , Cas. You’ve saved the world.”

“So have you, and you haven’t slaughtered thousands of your own kind to do it.”

“Are we going to ignore that period of time a few years ago where I was a  _ literal demon _ ?”

“You- wait.” Cas’s mouth quirks upwards in a half-smirk. “We really  _ would _ be a couple of dumbasses.”

“I prefer the word  _ trusting _ . Less dumb, less ass,” Dean finishes, mimicking Cas’s words from what seems like an age ago.

And then the implications of Cas’s words catch up to Dean.

“Would you… want to be a couple of dumbasses?” he asks, feeling his heart thump in his chest.  _ Surely that’s too loud to be normal _ , he thinks, feeling his palms starting to sweat.  _ Palm sweat? Sexy. _

Cas’s grin should be classified as the eighth wonder of the world.  _ The ninth should be his ass! _ Dean’s brain supplies unhelpfully. “A trusting couple, you mean?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his voice somehow calm despite the fact that  _ Cas’s lips are on a collision course with mine and holy FUCK that’s where that honey shit came from earlier holy fuck how does he taste so good _ -

Dean scrabbles for purchase against Cas’s broad back and pulls the other man down on top of him. “Dean-” Cas starts, cut off by Dean’s lips- “Dean, are you feeling well enough-”

“No offense-” Dean moans into Cas’s mouth- “but shut up, Cas- jesus  _ fuck _ -”

“Don’t blaspheme,” Cas growls, low and hot and rough and downright  _ sinful _ . Cas manoeuvres them so that Dean is straddling his leg, and Dean is getting erect in an embarrassing amount of time but it’s okay because Cas is in the same boat and-

“NOPE!” Sam’s voice- his  _ loud, loud voice _ \- comes from the doorway. Aaaand there goes the boner.

Cas scrambles off Dean.  _ At least he has the decency to look shamefaced _ , Dean thinks, grinning ear to ear. “What’s up, Sammy?”

“Nothing, just  _ emotional scarring _ ,” Sam bitches.

“Shaddup,” Dean says, crawling out of his bed-  _ good thing the boner’s gone _ and  _ ow what the fuck did that douchebag do to my ribs _ playing in his mind as he crosses the room to hug his brother the man-mountain.

“Good to see you, man,” Sam says with a barely-concealed sniff. He’s probably leaking snot onto Dean’s shirt, but Dean can’t bring himself to care.

Dean releases his brother with a pat on the back. “Where’s Jack?”

“Dean!” the kid exclaims, appearing from the next room.

“Hey, kid!” Dean grins as he wraps an arm around Jack.

“Do I get a hug too?” Gabriel simpers, showing up out of nowhere with Rowena and Mary in tow.

Dean rolls his eyes as his mother walks towards him and wraps her arms around him. “It’s good to have you back,” she says, pulling away and looking him over with a smile.

_ Where’s Charlie? _ is on the tip of his tongue when he realizes that his Charlie is still gone. It still makes his heart wrench. “Where’s the rest of the Apocalypse World gang?” he asks instead as Cas exits Dean’s room.

“We got them set up with houses while you were gone,” Mary informs him.

“Good. Great,” Dean says, his chest still aching from that random memory of Charlie.

But she’s gone, and he knows she’d be squealing- or maybe just telling him, “Finally-” about him and Cas finally getting together, and she’d be happy for him. He’s gotta be happy for her, too. She got out of the life. The hard way, but she’s still out.  _ That’ll keep me going _ , he thinks.  _ That’s all I gotta do _ .

He turns to his sort-of-part-demon brother and his kinda-sorta-half-Devil kid and his literal  _ angel _ of a… partner, and then he turns back to his dead-until-a-year-ago mother and the archangel and the witch and asks, “Who wants burgers?”

…

Cas  _ may _ just play up the moans he makes around the burger to see Dean blush.

…

Dean has never regretted (and simultaneously lauded) his choice of cooking more.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! kudos and comments are always appreciated :)  
> my tumblr is @supernaturalsbestcouple


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